


made ya laugh

by ichigoday



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bad Jokes, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29088828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ichigoday/pseuds/ichigoday
Summary: Suddenly it dawns on Atsumu. Everyone on the team is laughing in some way, shape, or form. Everyone except Sakusa.Atsumu’s never heard Sakusa laugh. Ever.Atsumu badgers Sakusa with terrible jokes until he can get a reaction out of the stone-faced bastard. Sakusa secretly thinks they’re hilarious, but there’s absolutely no way in hell he’s going to let Atsumu know that. It becomes a competition between them—they’re athletes after all. It’s a win for Sakusa if he can manage to keep a straight face and walk away.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 36
Kudos: 359
Collections: ~SakuAtsu~





	made ya laugh

**Author's Note:**

> i'm BACK and i'm in skts hell :))) i take no credit for any of the jokes (and i apologize in advance for how bad they are)
> 
> mostly written from atsumu's pov!
> 
> edit 02/25/2020: this can now be read as a prequel to [masked feelings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29677047) or standalone!

It all starts innocently enough at the end of practice one day. The instant Bokuto reunites with his phone in the locker room, he starts sharing memes and shitposts with Hinata and the others.

“Hey, shorty,” Bokuto says, an unusually serious frown on his face. His spikes were on point today; there’s no reason for him to be in his dejected mode. “Kuroo sent me this joke, but I don’t get it.”

Atsumu keeps an ear open as he does his cool down stretches alongside Sakusa, purely by coincidence and _not_ because there’s something grotesquely fascinating about those damn hyperflexible wrists.

Hinata cocks his head questioningly and waits.

“What’s a pirate’s favorite element?”

“Uhh… Water?”

“Ar,” Bokuto answers a bit ruefully. “Or maybe it’s A-R? Like augmented reality?”

The other guys start snickering and Atsumu can’t help the snort that escapes his nose. Honestly, the joke’s not even that funny—anyone who’s taken high school chem has probably heard it once before—it’s more so the way Hinata and Bokuto are staring blankly at each other, utterly clueless.

“Oh my god, who’s gonna tell them?” Thomas wheezes.

“No, explaining it will just ruin the joke!”

Suddenly it dawns on Atsumu. Everyone on the team is laughing in some way, shape, or form.

Everyone except Sakusa.

Atsumu’s never heard Sakusa laugh. Ever.

“Omi-Omi,” he sing-songs. “Didn’t think that was funny?”

“No,” he replies flatly without looking up from his stretch.

“Not even a little?” he presses.

That gets Sakusa to look up and glare at him, a silent _What the fuck are you getting at, Miya?_

Atsumu decides right then and there that it’s his mission to get Sakusa’s facade to crack. He’s only human, right? He has to have at least one funny bone in him. Maybe in one of those bendy wrists of his.

Atsumu needs to stop thinking about the wrists.

Atsumu’s plan is to catch Sakusa off guard, which is extremely difficult considering Sakusa’s guard is always up, but especially around Atsumu. If it was anyone else, Atsumu would have probably just taken the shortcut and tickled them when they least expected it, but given Sakusa’s aversion to unwarranted physical contact… He’ll have to rely on his incredibly witty jokes and charming delivery.

The next day, Atsumu decides that mid-scrimmage is a good opportunity. He waits for a brief pause in their game, which comes right after he and Sakusa pull off a successful cross shot to win the set. Now they’re shuffling around the court before starting the next game.

“Hey, Omi-Omi,” he calls. He tries to maintain a neutral expression.

Sakusa turns to look at him, expecting a comment about their play just now.

“What’s Beethoven’s favorite fruit?”

Sakusa blinks and stares at Atsumu for a good five seconds like he’s lost his damn mind, which… fair. Even Inunaki’s turned to look at them.

“What the fuck?” he hisses.

“I _said_ ,” Atsumu says emphatically. “What’s Beethoven’s favorite fruit? Just humor me, Omi-kun.”

He crosses his arms and attempts to stare down Sakusa to let him know that he’s waiting for an answer. Sakusa heaves a sigh. He just wants to get on with the game, so he bites.

“What.”

“BA-NA-NA-NA,” Atsumu yells, to the tune of Beethoven’s 5th.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Inunaki double over in laughter. Some of the other guys within earshot are cackling too, but their voices barely register in Atsumu’s mind as he examines Sakusa’s face, searching for a reaction.

Atsumu’s pretty sure he sees the corner of Sakusa’s lip twitch, but before he can actually get a good look, Sakusa turns on his heel and takes his position.

Oh. So that’s how it was going to be.

Atsumu decides to try again in the locker room while they’re changing. He looks over at Sakusa, who’s fresh out of the shower. Atsumu’s eyes latch onto a stray droplet that falls from one of Sakusa’s damp curls and trails down the expanse of his pale chest. For the first time, Atsumu notices the scattering of moles all over his torso. There’s one on his right collarbone, another closer to his sternum, and another just below his left pec. He doesn’t realize he’s been staring for longer than is considered socially acceptable until—

“Miya,” Sakusa blurts. “What are you looking at?”

“N-nothing!” _Shit, now’s not the time to get distracted_ , Atsumu berates himself. “Actually, I have a question for ya.”

“What is it?”

“What’s a mermaid’s favorite subject?”

Sakusa narrows his eyes; Atsumu can tell he’s trying to connect the dots.

“Miya, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but—”

“Ooh, I wanna know!” Hinata chimes in, because of course he does.

“C’mon, don’t be such a stick in the mud, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu taunts. “Can’t handle a joke?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sakusa scoffs. “I just don’t get why you’re asking me.”

“Just tryin’ t’ lighten the mood and make ya feel more welcome to the team, _rookie_.”

“I’d say you’re doing the opposite, actually,” Sakusa retorts.

“But doncha wanna know now? What a mermaid’s favorite subject is?”

Sakusa pauses to consider his options. He doesn’t _have_ to give in to Atsumu’s antics. He can simply just… finish changing and walk away. He has a feeling Atsumu would be persistent, though. For better or for worse, Atsumu is someone who gives his 100% to everything he does, whether it’s volleyball or pestering a fellow teammate.

There’s no harm in humoring Atsumu, Sakusa supposes. Maybe this is the nature of his relationship with Osamu, and now that they’re not by each other’s side, Atsumu needs an outlet for the energy that would normally be directed at his twin.

Not that Atsumu would admit it out loud, but he must be subconsciously missing his brother, Sakusa concludes, patting himself on the back for his deductive skills.

“Fine, what is it?” he concedes, hoping it’ll get Atsumu off his back.

“Algae-bra!” Atsumu exclaims proudly.

There are a few stray chuckles in the locker room from those who overheard.

Sakusa grimaces.

“That was terrible, Miya.”

“Ugh, seriously?” Atsumu pouts— _actually_ pouts—and somehow it’s endearing for a 188-cm hunk of a twenty-three year old. “Who hurt ya and ruined yer sense of humor?”

“I have a sense of humor,” Sakusa says pointedly. “You’re just not funny.”

He hastily finishes putting on the rest of his clothes, followed by his mask, and then heads towards the door.

“Just you wait, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu calls after him. “I’ll get ya one of these days!”

Beneath the mask, Sakusa’s lips quirk up.

The next day, Atsumu is armed with a slew of new jokes. He spent all night racking his brain, trying to remember his personal favorites. He didn’t want to resort to looking them up on the internet; where was the fun in that?

“Mornin’, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu greets.

Sakusa arches an eyebrow at him and Atsumu watches as the two moles on his forehead shift. For a split second, it seems like he’s waiting for Atsumu to say more.

“Morning,” he finally replies, cautious.

Atsumu smirks to himself. He plans to keep Sakusa on his toes and then strike when he least expects it. He’s got a bunch of jokes up his sleeve, but he has to tactfully pepper them in throughout the day. He waits until they settle into a rhythm during their warm-up drills. They’re mindlessly passing the ball to each other back and forth without talking, aside from the occasional grunt.

“Omi-kun,” Atsumu says, breaking the silence. “Ya heard about the kidnapping at the school?”

“What?” Sakusa’s furrows his brows, trying to recall if he heard about it on the news. His voice barely rises, but it’s enough that he actually sounds a little alarmed. Atsumu almost feels bad. Almost.

“It’s okay, he woke up.”

Sakusa nearly spikes the ball into Atsumu’s face.

For the next one, Atsumu makes sure Inunaki is close by, just for kicks.

“Hey, Omi-Omi, ya like dogs, right?”

“They’re… fine,” he replies warily, returning the ball. “Why?”

“Ever heard of a magic dog?”

Sakusa’s rhythm stutters—just by a hair—but to Atsumu and his well-honed reflexes, it’s noticeable enough.

“It’s called a labracadabrador.”

Inunaki giggles. Sakusa does not.

Atsumu tries again. And again. All throughout the day, he makes sure to talk to Sakusa normally as they would. They discuss their strategy for the upcoming game. They practice fine-tuning their movements to better sync up their attacks. He transitions into the jokes as smoothly as possible, but every time, he’s met with nothing more than a sullen stare and a slight frown.

Atsumu finds himself observing Sakusa even more and more intently as the day goes on, searching for any signs of his resolve weakening. Then it hits him, after one of Sakusa’s intensely powerful service aces. The idea, that is, not the ball.

“Nice one, Omi-kun!” Bokuto yells. His praise is echoed by the rest of the team.

Instead of accepting the praise, Sakusa simply slinks back to his spot behind the line, shoulders drawn up a bit tighter than before.

Atsumu takes note of the subtle change in his posture. He pulled off a nasty serve and he knows it, so why does he look so uncomfortable? Does he dislike being praised? That can’t be it. Sakusa might not necessarily thrive off praise, but he doesn’t hate it.

No, it’s not that Sakusa dislikes praise. He dislikes attention, Atsumu realizes. Sakusa dislikes having eyes on him, so the chances of him letting loose while the others are around are probably next to nothing. Atsumu decides to hold off on the jokes for the rest of practice and waits until everyone races off to the showers to single Sakusa out.

“Hey, Omi-kun? Mind helpin’ me with, uhh… some extra stretches?” Atsumu facepalms internally. He should’ve prepared a better excuse, but it’s been a long day and he’s exhausted, more mentally than physically.

“Sure,” Sakusa agrees, an amused look in his eyes.

They stretch in silence for the first few minutes while Atsumu musters up the energy for one last attempt.

“Hey, Omi-kun,” he says tiredly. He feels his eyes starting to droop as he stretches out his right hamstring.

“What.”

“Why’d the hipster burn his tongue on the pizza?”

At this point the jokes no longer catch Sakusa by surprise, with or without setup. He takes a moment to ponder the question, not that it actually matters. It’s not like he can actually come up with the right answer.

“Why?” he says eventually.

“Because he ate it before it was cool!”

Personally, Atsumu thinks it’s a good one; even he chuckles a little at himself.

Sakusa huffs and then starts heading in the direction of the locker room.

Atsumu blinks, his tired brain taking a couple extra seconds to process the quiet exhale that he just heard. It wasn’t exactly a laugh, per se, but it was _something_.

“Hey, that was—I got ya to react! Ha! I win!” Atsumu proclaims. He stands up and scrambles after Sakusa—or at least, tries to. He doesn’t realize his left foot’s fallen asleep, and after just one step he stumbles forward and faceplants into the hard floor. He pushes himself up and groans, rubbing his cheek where it made contact with the floor. On the plus side, he still has his knee pads on, and no one else was around to witness him trip over nothing like a fool.

Except Sakusa.

Sakusa, whose shoulders are shaking, whose eyes are crinkling, whose laughter is now echoing through the empty gymnasium. Sakusa, who hardly speaks above a murmur, except for when he has to call to his teammates during a game. It’s jarring, hearing his voice so much _louder_ and so many octaves higher than usual.

Atsumu stares, wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape, like he’s witnessing a once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon—the kind you only see in nature documentaries—and he momentarily forgets the throbbing in his face as he commits the sight and sound of Sakusa’s laughter to memory.

“Holy shit,” Atsumu breathes. He doesn’t care that he’s finally “won” their little game. He doesn’t care that he technically has the upper hand now.

It certainly doesn’t feel that way anymore when Atsumu realizes that he is—has been—hopelessly in love with Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

Floppy wrists and all.

**Author's Note:**

> [i'm on twitter now!](https://twitter.com/ichig0day) come yell at me about skts :3  
> kudos & comments appreciated!


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